I stopped cutting for a month or two.
It was stupid to cut.
I thought I was cured.
I wasn't an addict anymore.
But guess what?
I started again.
On Sunday.
I was crying in the night.
Thinking of many ways I could turn myself perfect.
Beautiful face.
Body.
A love life.
I cut myself.
And released the pain.
The blood poured out.
If though it was dark to see them.
I felt it trickle down my arm.
I wanted to impress him.
I really do like him.
But I guess he doesn't feel the same.
YOU ARE READING
You're Reading My Mind
HorrorI sometimes feel like nobody cares about me. And guess what? It's true. Nobody really does, right now you're probably like 'Aw, but I do!' But really you don't. Nobody knows the real me, online I'm just someone fake, trying to impress people. B...
